


Mad Sounds

by haoskojihoda



Category: Chaos Walking - Patrick Ness
Genre: AU where Ben never showed up, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Manipulation, Mayor is ambiguously middle aged and a dilf, Mildly Dubious Consent, Todd is 19/20, everything after is 6 years in the (horrible) future ×, first chapter takes place vaguely during MoM, honestly Todd is just too tsun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-04 22:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haoskojihoda/pseuds/haoskojihoda
Summary: Disjointed yet sorta related Todd/David fics mostly taking place in my '6 years post-MoM' AU





	1. it's not the fever

**Author's Note:**

> my first attempt at a fic (and the book style), any grammar or spelling mistakes i blame on writing this at 2 am. I'm not a native speaker and I read these books in my own language so loose translations of some terms might appear,,,
> 
>  
> 
> _David can't sleep because of the Noise and seeks out the one person who can help (even if the person in question is a very tired boy hugging his horse)_

I feel him staring at me, while the men are asleep and their Noise is low, nothing like the wild roar of the battlefield that crashes into me during the day, nothing like their sizzling skin in the heat of this war, this war that is supposed to make me a man. 

I wonder if he sees a man in me, now, when I'm curled up with Angharrad and listening to her breathe..  
And I'm listening to her live..  
Except we're not living  
I'm not living because _she's_ not here. She's somewhere out there, hurt and dealing with who knows what and I'm here with the man who I defeated, defeated and then set free..  
She's not here and her fingers can't trace my skin and can't trace my lies and can't hear my noise.  
(my Noise that screams her name) 

He's standing up now and walking towards me, but my Noise must have soured, must have shown the bitterness, because he stops, almost surprised.  
I wait to see if he'll turn back, almost wish I could turn around and send her name at him, send all of my suffering that he has caused me, right into his being, exactly like he does to his men on the battlefield…  
Like he does to me..  
(I effin hate him and his dead black eyes and cold pointed Noise that feels like it'll eat you alive) 

The Mayor must've found that funny because I can hear him resuming his walk, now a more lighthearted trot, like he's a vulture slowly and lazily circling his prey.  
And he is, isn't he? An old vulture that picks apart your corpse with delicate care and strips you of your flesh to peer inside, forcing his cold brand of carnage into you, into everything you live and breathe, until you're nothing, nothing. 

He lays a hand on my shoulder and I feel an incredible urge to turn around and slap it away, because how _dare_ he, how dare he touch me with tenderness when he has shown me only war, when he has hurt her...  
He squeezes gently and rubs his thumb absent-mindedly and it makes my skin crawl, makes this cold fire in my belly rage on. 

“Get off.”

He doesn't move, just squeezes harder, and it's starting to hurt, his hand is so unlike any other, nothing like Ben's gentle reassurance or her strong, brave one. He demands and he takes and he gives nothing in return, he doesn't know how to.. 

“Todd, that's not true. I've given you the greatest of gifts a man can receive on this accursed planet. Control and a peace of mind.” His voice is low and sure, like he's said something definite and true, as if half the things he mentioned I wouldn't have needed unless he shaped the world to fit.. 

I turn to him now, to let him know exactly where he can shove his gift, but the words die in my throat at his hazy look, completely unfocused. He's not looking at me, feels like he has forgotten why he has even come here, and his hand is slipping from my body.. 

I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME 

I send it to him, like he has done to me so many times before, but lightly, softly, the kind of gentleness a man like him doesn't deserve and I find myself wondering over. The Mayor snaps out of whatever thought he was in, confused and disoriented. 

“I see you've been practicing”, he says it like a satisfied cat after a big meal, like I've granted him something special, but I didn't, I wouldn't give him that.  
“Yeah, whatever” 

I half expect him to start another lecture about war and greatness, but he stops these thoughts dead when he puts his hand in my hair.  
“Thank you, Todd.”  
He sounds so genuine, so pained, and it almost knocks me out, would have if I wasn't already lying down and I'm suddenly thankful for my long bangs that hide this, whatever this is.  
Shame?  
(Satisfaction, because I haven't had someone praise me in so long)  
(I miss feeling important and _good_ )  
(I miss her..) 

I must've wandered off because suddenly his hand is carding through my hair, gently, so unlike anything I've seen him do. It's different from fake concern and reassurances he offered to women during those torturous questionings. And it makes me feel weird, makes me feel dirty and weak. But I'm not stopping him and he must know it because he doesn't even react to my Noise.  
And I hate it..  
I hate that I need this…  
Hate that I want this, crave affection from anyone..  
But especially him. 

“There's no reason to be ashamed Todd”, the Mayor says and I can taste the smugness in his voice. He must think he's beat me, broken me down with this fatherly charade he plays. But I've seen him for who he truly is, seen the monster behind his immaculate uniform. I've beaten him. I've seen what he can do, what he can force people to do..  
What he can force me to do…  
I hear him chuckle at that and the need to shrug him off grows again. 

“If you have nothing important to say, eff off” I grit out, but his hand just keeps on moving through my dirty hair, frazzled and damaged from long days and gunpowder. The Mayor has a cryptic smile on his lips, looks at me like I'm a particularly amusing pet that doesn't know better and it makes my face red and my blood boil. He slides the hand to my ear and then slowly, _slowly_ , to my right cheek, like you'd do with a precious doll. I don't deserve this. I don't want this from him. But..  
I lean into it, on instinct, and if I close my eyes I can imagine it's Viola, Viola and her similarly rough yet tender hands that have held me so many times before. But it's not the same, he's bigger and his hand seeks out more than I can possibly give, want to give.. 

_Todd, look at me._  
It comes from his Noise but it's not an order, it doesn't have the edge to it.  
(only the pleasant buzzing)  
(the buzzing I can't ignore anymore)  
I do it even if I don't have to, and he's suddenly kneeling before me, which should make sense to me but I feel dizzy and lightheaded from our closeness and he's focusing entirely on me..  
And for some reason everything falls silent. 

“What do you..” I start, but something tells me words aren't going to get me anywhere right now, not when his eyes are trained on mine and looking at me with something.. Something I can't name, something that's not meant for me, shouldn't be for me. His hand has stopped now, resting on my cheek, clammy and heavy. I drop my head down.  
I don't want this burden.  
(but my heart gently thumps yes)  
(and my Noise turns a confused pink)  
Because this isn't normal, not for us..  
Not for me and him, not now, not..  
(but it is here, beating like a frightened bird) 

“Calm down and just look at me.”  
He doesn't say please but I can sense it in his voice, could probably see it in his Noise if he ever let me see…  
I obey, and feel like a trained dog. That's probably what he thinks of me too.  
“ _No_ ” he says quietly, almost sadly. 

And then he leans in…

 

My forehead burns the entire night through.


	2. guns aren't toys todd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok we're 6 years later here and Todd is still just as dramatic and unwilling and probably even more tired but that's just a natural consequence of babysitting a narcissistic drama queen that loves you (not even lowkey)
> 
> _Todd has an endless capacity for guilt and David knows how to push all the right buttons to get what he wants._

He was unusually chipper today.   
The harvest reports from plants outside the city were sitting on his desk, in an uncharacteristic disarray, which only ever happened on particularly bad weeks. We've been seeing a little too many of them lately. This year hasn't been kind to anyone, but especially not this dying settlement. Dying because of the drought. Dying because there was scarcely anyone left to even die here. Not that the Mayor ever acknowledged that, he just sat at his wooden desk at the cathedral, which was rebuilt as soon as the city gained any stability, a towering giant shining and looming over everything else. Just like him, I suppose.   
Which left me with a lot of free time. Time I didn't even know how to spend. Free time was scarce on this planet and a free mind even more so.   
It had been free, once.   
(when _she_ was here)   
I stop the thought dead and turn to the now humming Mayor. 

“David,” I hear myself say his name, which still feels alien on my tongue but his head snaps back and he looks at me. There's wild joy in them so I avert my own and look pointedly at the chaos on the desk. He waves me off. 

“The delegates are coming to town tomorrow, Todd.”  
And with that the room somehow gets smaller and all the air escapes me, leaves with that single word. _Delegates_. Delegates from the other settlement. Her settlement. I grip the edge of his desk to steel myself. Once again I find myself feeling grateful that I have no Noise anymore. Not any that someone could hear, anyway.   
Because if they could…   
If someone could peer into me and pull me apart they'd only find.   
Her.   
(delegates mean she's coming-)   
(delegates mean she's going to speak to me-)   
(means she's gonna look at me with those disappointed eyes) 

“Todd,” his voice sounds amused and I know he's still reading me, reading my thoughts of her, “I expect you to reach an agreement with them over the food supplies. They've been far too selfish with them lately, don't you think?”   
I don't think anything.   
She's coming (home?)

“Take a few men and wait at the outskirts, you know how our friends loathe entering our city” and he emphasizes ‘our city', like it isn't only his playground where he gets to play god. But I stay under this god all the same. Ironically, I'm probably the only one who does so willingly. But we don't discuss that either. After 6 years it's a simple fact of life.

I used to hate it, excused me staying with him as a safety measure. But in all those years he hasn't done anything to endanger the peace or anyone else for that matter. Not even when the settlers came.   
They came carrying big, even more powerful guns. They came with even tougher leaders.  
And most importantly, they came and met Viola. Viola who wouldn't look me in the eye after Simone died (died because I saved Him) and who went with Bradley and his ship. Who went far away from New Prentisstown. And coms could only work if both people wanted to talk.   
I guess she had nothing to say to me.   
(I had so much to say, _so much to apologize for_ -) 

“Whatever. It'll be the same as always.” Because it will be, a familiar and cold routine where we pretend they don't hate us and would take us out if they didn't fear the Mayor taking them don't with him. I don't blame them, I'd do the same thing. 

“Don't be so boring Todd, we haven't had company in so long, it'll do you some good to talk to someone other than me.” and he tries to make it sound sincere, like he cares what's best for me, but I've been here, with him, in this decaying cathedral and town, for long enough to know it's all condescension. I flip him off to tell him as much. He just laughs, before sitting at his desk and leaning on one hand, lazy and unbothered. “You should be happy, after all-”

“Don't say it”

“-Viola will be coming” he finishes and looks at me with bored eyes. A challenge.   
“Don't say her name you bastard.”   
He picks up a document and pretends to read it. But his eyes are still trained on me, one brow raised. ”I see you still haven't gotten over it. Pity.” There's mock disappointment in his voice and I feel bitterness in my mouth. Anger slowly creeps into my body, warming my stomach and slithering up my throat. I almost choke on 6 years of grief. He knows nothing, he doesn't understand because he has never loved in his life and staring and him now, still pristine and put together, only white streaks in his hair giving away the years passed, makes me want…   
I find myself in front of him before I can even register it. He doesn't seem surprised, like he expected this. 

“You don't know anything so shut yer mouth.” I grit out and the Mayor smiles at my accent slipping out. Now, up close, I can see stray strands of hair and wrinkles around his eyes, little scars peppering his skin. Remainants from the war I figure. I wonder if similar scars mark my face. But that's not important right now. She has scars all over her body, bigger and more painful than he'll ever know and it's all his fault and all at once repressed memories come creeping out, frightening images of blood and life slowly seeping out from under my hands and-  
I punch him. 

A sharp breath is all I hear as my fist connects and we topple to the floor, the Mayor unceremoniously falling from his chair as I hear his head hit the wood. My hand hurts but the Mayor's nose is bleeding already and by the look in his eyes it's probably broken. He's breathing hard now, slightly dazed. I try not to think of Davy and all our fights. 

“Using your fists.. I thought I taught you better than that.”   
The rage in my throat sits heavily on my tongue. So I hit him again. This time I aim for the side, knuckles grazing the skin just under his left eye and he lets out a pained sigh. It just makes me want to hit him more. I'd hit and hit and hit until there's nothing left. And I realize.. 

That's exactly what he wants.   
For once, I don't mind playing along.   
“That's right Todd, just like that, show me how powerful you've become after all these years-” a punch to his gut that makes him stop mid sentence and cough hard. Blood from his nose is on my hands. I can feel his chest heave. There's a strand of light coming from the only window in the room, and it's falling directly onto us, making me hyper aware of the situation. I mean, it's very simple. It's been long time coming. 

“You've grown into such,” a choked breath, “.. a fine man.”   
“I don't want to hear that from you.”

“It's true nonetheless…” his smirk is back, bloody teeth glinting in the light, “Viola would be proud.”  
I'm breathing hard now too and I realize I'm grabbing for my gun, the metal cold against my skin, which feels like it's burning (in shame?). Its weight still just as heavy as the first time he gave it to me and I bring it up. There's bullets in it now. I've always told him I didn't need it, the war was over after all and it just brought bad memories back. He insisted. Said it'd make him sleep better at night.   
The irony obviously wasn't lost on either of us. 

“I said…” kneeling over him, gun under his chin, “don't say her name.”

“Brings back memories, doesn't it? Pointing a gun at me.” The room is deadly silent, or maybe it's the entire world, suddenly stopped in this singular moment, with my finger on the trigger and the Mayor under me, smiling another one of his knowing smiles. They never failed to make my skin crawl. He enjoyed it. “But, it seems… that's not the only thing pointed at me right now.”  
And his knee pushes against my pants.  
Right against my very noticeable-  
(don't think about it)   
I almost drop the gun. 

“Stop.” another push, the steady pressure doesn't move and my voice quiets. I feel pathetic.   
“Honesty is a virtue Todd.”   
“Don't talk to me about honesty.” My cheeks burn in shame and I feel lightheaded. I haven't been touched in a long time…   
(maybe this is fine?)   
(shut up) 

The Mayor has no such qualms. What's another morally reprehensible act to a man who killed his own son, you know? He reaches out and I'm too stunned to do anything as he hooks his arms around my neck and drags me down. Right into a kiss.   
I smell blood. But I won't taste it. I won't. I won't give him the satisfaction. 

The hands that once tortured women are now petting my hair and the contrast is too much. A memory of him putting bandages on my face all those years ago flashes in my mind and I wonder: what am I getting rewarded for? What is he promising here, where's the catch?   
“There's no catch, Todd” he murmurs against my lips and the vibration and proximity makes the hair on my neck raise. “I just thought you could use some appreciation..” I feel his mouth stretch into a small smile, “for all the good work you do.”

And you know, the praise wasn't why I did it. I mean, that's not why any of us stick with him after all these years, wasn't why people stayed in Prentisstown when I was young either. He just.. Makes you want to stay. It's familiar. It's hopeful and addictive and scary. It's like he cares. And even though I know (I've known all this time) that he's not, will never be, capable of caring. I still stuck around. Because, where else was I supposed to go? I don't have a home anymore.   
(or anyone for that matter)   
(she left)   
(why did you leave?) 

So I open my mouth a little and the guilt rushes in, right alongside David's tongue, hot and heavy and _probing_. It isn't gentle, but then again, such things aren't supposed to be. Not with people like him, who've gone through life being anything but (except with me-).  
This must be what kissing death feels like. Would death rub little circles into my skin?   
I feel off balance. How did we get here? 

“Todd, stop thinking.” there's annoyance in his voice and I feel a small sense of victory. What for, though, I don't know.

My breathing is heavy, but so is his and it feels like we're trading air, like we could run out any moment now in this small, dark room with only one ray of sunshine falling onto David's hair. I reach out to mess it up. 

“It's soft.”  
It surprises me enough that I stop kissing him and rise a bit to look at it. Stray strands are falling over his forehead and I can see the barest hints of silver under my fingers. I guess I always thought it'd be as artificial and perfect as the rest of him. Stony. Inhuman.   
Except..   
It's soft. 

“Todd?”  
“You're human.” it slips out before I can even think about it and ends up sounding more like a question than anything. He's looking at me weirdly now, like I'm doing something wrong. Or maybe he's never thought of himself as such. Maybe he's just as surprised. 

“I know some people who'd strongly object to that.” he jokes but it falls flat and I let my hands wander to his face. Soft as his hair, warm. He's so warm. I wonder how I've never noticed before. His mouth is slightly open and his eyes are searching my own almost timidly. It's… Surprisingly cute. And as soon as that thought forms in mind I know something is deeply wrong. The warm buzzing in my head is making me lightheaded and everything seems fuzzier than before. Warmth pours into me, freely and all at once and I realize.   
It's him.   
I'm feeling him and his Noise, everywhere.   
It's almost painful.   
(but it feels so effing good-)   
(it feels powerful.) 

This time, I'm the one pulling in.   
This time, I'm not the one caught off guard.   
And as our lips connect and I lean into him, I wonder why I ever hesitated. I've given up something fundamental a long time ago, gave my right to refuse away the day I saved his life. There was no going back once I gave up (on her, or was it the other way around?). Even this manipulation (is it? is it real?) feels familiar and right.   
So I let this happen, just as I've let everything in the past 6 years happen. And, well, if I get something out of it too, that's just fine. I'm a walking corpse with no Noise, anyway. 

“Let's decay together then.”


	3. viola is here!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a sorta continuation of chapter 2 ft Viola bc i love Viola a lot so I had to bring her in. And accidentally wrote too much of Tiola. David's in here too, mostly sulking and being dramatic.
> 
> _Todd speaks to Viola and tries to mend 6 years of separation. They find out it'll take more than that. David antagonizes and fights his way through abandonment issues and an innocent (?) guard goes missing._

I sense her before I can even see her (and 5 other women, islands of silence) coming down the dirty road, and I realize I'm tearing up, unshed tears rushing out to meet her. It startles me and I realize I haven't cried in a very long time. I curse him again for making me do this. 

I'm not alone. Nine soldiers, handpicked by the Mayor, all with Noise very loudly and very excitedly thinking about the _women_. Older men, those who were once husbands and brothers, are looking at the road and thinking about different times, sun-kissed skin, brilliant smiles, visions of chaste yet meaningful kisses and strong arms tending to the fields. The younger ones… they're dirty and I have to turn away to tune out the energetic pulsing of naked bodies, some not even close to a real woman's. I'm starting to think he picked them just to mock me. 

As they draw near I have to quiet the men, but not before I hear yet another sarcastic joke abt my authority, the kind I've gotten used to over the years. A general doesn't just take in and personally train a country boy to keep by his side without arousing all sorts of rumors. I hate the fact I've proven some of them right just recently. 

“Don't forget why we're here.”

“We know why we're here,” one of the younger men jeers at me and I can see him out the corner of my eye, dirty blond hair combed back tightly and holding his gun a little too close to his body. He could be a year younger than me. “... ‘m not too sure about you though.”  
And he smiles a toothy grin, or it would've been one if he wasn't missing half of his front teeth.   
I turn back to focus on the delegates.

They come in cars, more advanced than I've ever seen, nearly as quiet as the people inside of them. As they stop in front of us, the difference in power and development hits, and suddenly the nine soldiers armed with old guns feel like nothing but ants which shows in their Noise, an undercurrent of respect.   
(and fear)   
I fear the passengers much more. 

She steps out first, not even looking at us, and signals the rest. They exit the vehicles, completely unarmed. Not surprising. There's no need for protection when one side has enough firepower to wipe the other off the map. The men around me relax, unaware.   
But none of that matters. _She's_ in front of me. Alive. Healthy and clean and her skin looks as soft as I remember it to be. I want to reach out and check for myself. 

I rub my neck instead.   
Her eyes are still avoiding mine, scouting the surroundings, and she looks like she's searching for something. Something..   
I breathe in.   
_My Noise_.   
She's still trying to find it.   
She's trying to find me.   
(I'm here, I'm right here-)   
But she can't. 

And before I can even open my mouth to say anything, explain, reach out and show her six years of longing, she finally faces me and says-

“Men of New Prentisstown, we've come to ratify out trade and supply agreement and discuss the upcoming year.” Scripted, impersonal. I clench my fists. “Our colony acknowledges the hard times your city has faced this year and we are more than ready to cooperate and offer supplies as a token of goodwill.”  
Token or goodwill? Our city? She's not even trying to mask their superiority. The men behind me are whispering angrily, but their Noise is not nearly as quiet or subtle.   
_Focus, I am the circle…_

“I hope this includes sending us enough wheat to survive the winter considering the… Hard times you've mentioned?” my voice is leveled but it's all coming through gritted teeth. 

“Of course, food and other necessities will be provided for your men.” this time she's not the one replying, a mousy woman behind her, with a surprisingly deep voice, stepping out and putting herself between us. My head immediately explodes with questions. Even Viola seems surprised  
 _Viola._  
Up until now I hadn't dared think it. Her name was off limits, pushed so far down in my Noise I sometimes forgot it. I never let it enter my mouth. It was mourning. Selfish. 

But now, when she's right there, a few steps away, several breaths short of intimacy, it escapes from me like a dirty secret, “Viola”, low, almost inaudible.   
She hears it.   
And I know she knows.   
She's never needed anything else to understand. 

“Grace, it's alright.” she says, although the woman definitely doesn't agree. She still begrudgingly moves. I can see that they respect her and my chest swells in pride. 

“Can we talk?”   
“About the agreement?”  
I step closer, and the women around her all stiffen. The men are watching.   
“No.”  
And then.   
“Please.”  
Silence. It stretches between us, six silent years, silent promises, silent grudges. And in the middle of them a sea of words unsaid. Questions not even deserving of an answer. Every time is the same. I beg, she stares and listens. And then she's no more. 

Except this time she sighs and nods. I could've sworn my Noise slipped out at that. I turn to the men. 

“Leave us.”  
“We can't do that, the deal hasn't been sealed yet.” one of the older men pipes up, but I hear sympathy in his Noise. He's not the only one.   
“I'll close it, now leave.”   
“You can't boss us around like this!” the same young private from before, the one with dirty blond hair, a mocking smile on his lips, “your _owner_ ordered us to stay, said you'd need protection.” and he sneers ‘protection’ and looks at the women, his Noise clearly showing just what he thinks of this, of them. Of me. _Pet._

But I don't do anything. _I am the circle and the circle is me_. And then..   
Well, I haven't spent six years twiddling my thumbs.   
A breath in.   
_Smile, Todd. You can't lead men if you don't project confidence_ , he had said once. 

“You're going to leave and you're going to report to Mayor Prentiss that the talks were a success and there were no complications.”  
All at once, the men fall in line with an “Understood!” and leave. No hesitation. No struggle. Their Noise is booming with my words (and none of their own).   
A breath out.   
(it feels so effin’ good) 

“Viola, what was that?” a hushed female voice says behind me and dread follows. I had almost forgotten they were there. 

“Wait in the cars, I'll finish this.”   
They don't look too happy about that, but they comply.   
Silence again.   
I'm learning to hate silence all over again.   
In the years we've been away from each other, I've learned to find comfort and peace in hearing nothing. Even when the Noise from the outside became too much, I could hide in my own soundless mind. So many worries could be buried in there and never revisited. I've even grown used to his silence, came to appreciate the simplicity of interacting without giving anything away.   
The lack of Noise seems heavier and more painful than ever now.   
(Viola are you feeling the same?)  
(Why haven't you taken me away?) 

I break it. 

“How are you doing?”  
Her eyes soften. This is familiar.   
“Good. I've been stuck training the newest group of doctors for a few months now, and maintaining relations with The Land on the side, it's been..”  
She pauses and frowns. Looks like she's reprimanding herself for speaking so much. I'm just happy to hear her voice so I ignore it. “Has everything been fine here?”

She's asking about him. My neck itches again. I pretend not to notice. 

“Some people have been leaving, but otherwise..” I stop, turn to look at the floor. I don't know why I'm ashamed. “The city is managing. With your help, we'll survive another winter.”  
“And is he..?”  
“He's been stuck managing our resources and attending church. He isn't planning anything.” i can't seem to keep the defensiveness out of my voice. She notices. 

The conversation dies. We're less than a few feet apart but it might as well be miles. My eyes are prickling up again. Hers just look… Sad. And that kills me.   
There's so much I want to ask. But instead I say-  
“I've missed you.”  
I pray my voice can carry all of the feelings my Noise can't.   
A loaded gun fires. 

“I've missed you too, Todd Hewitt. Every day.” And she means it. My name said in her voice ringing in my ears. My eyes blur so all I can see as years of yearning escape me is her smile, the smile I've dreamt of so many times before, the one I've fought so hard for in the past. Coming closer.   
And she hugs me. 

And the world is right again.   
For exactly twelve seconds.   
Then she pulls away and there's wet spots on my shoulder.   
But she just pulls away. 

And I realize this is her way of forgiving me.   
(Thank you thank you thank you-)   
(But now-)  
(What now?) 

“You smell like soap.” she says it as a joke, but her tone is almost accusatory. It catches me off guard. A memory of scrubbing my skin raw last night pops up and I redden.   
“Yeah, well, even hicks like me clean up once in a while.” I offer a smile but my eyes refuse to meet hers. She doesn't laugh.   
When I look up again I find her staring at me, brows furrowed.   
Except she's not looking at my face.   
Her lips are twisting as she stares lower, lower..   
Right at the angry red bite David left on my neck yesterday. 

I move to cover it up but it's too late because I can already see the familiar shadow of disappointment appear on her face. Her body curls in on itself a bit. I suddenly wish the earth would swallow me up. Instead I just stand there letting her down. Again. 

“The supply car will be sent in 3 weeks. There's going to be an empty seat in it. Think about who you want to be, Todd.”  
And with that she's gone. 

\----

Somehow it's already night by the time I'm at the doors of the cathedral. I honestly can't say what I spent the time on after she left. My fingers are definitely bleeding from the chill though. This autumn has been especially cold and fruitless.   
There's light coming from the Mayor's office. Of course. Of course he wouldn't let me go without reporting first. I swallow the bitterness and try to focus on concealing today's talks. I've gotten better at it, but somehow he still finds me out most of the time. The times he doesn't… Well.   
(She can never read me now-)   
(I'd let her I swear I would-) 

The soldier outside his door nods at me and lets me in, no words exchanged. Most men treat me that way here. I've learned not to let it get to me. I don't see the other guard. 

 

I freeze at the sleeping Mayor before me.   
He's half sprawled on the table, the now messy hair sticking out everywhere, arms acting as a pillow crinkling paperwork. His suit jacket is slightly hanging off his shoulders and I have an impulsive need to fix it for him. I shake my head and slowly approach him.   
This is a rare sight. I almost don't want to do anything. He looks so.. What? Fragile? What a foolish thought. I, of all people, know what this man is capable of. A man who had started a war with no remorse doesn't deserve to be called fragile. I know that.   
I still reach out to fix his hair. I'm learning I don't mind doing it.   
He stirs under me and I take my hand back quickly.   
Listening.   
His breathing is uneven but he's not waking up.   
There's sweat on his face. It's not hot in here. 

I decide that's enough.   
“David.”  
Nothing. This isn't like him. I frown. I don't actually know what he's like when he's sleeping. I almost didn't even think he needed to. But it doesn't look right.   
I reach out and shake his shoulder lightly.   
“David, wake up.”  
A hand grabs my arm before I can even register it. I don't even have the time to cry out before I'm being dragged down and pushed into the table. Struggling is pointless because an elbow presses into my throat and then I'm really panicking. Tears drop unwillingly from the corners of my eyes. I was so stupid to let my guard down around him. Those hands have killed and tortured millions. Stupid effin choice.

“Let me go-” a cough, my throat feels like it'll break, “you crazy bastard!”  
That seems to snap him out of it. He loosens the pressure just enough that I can shove him off. I fall backwards, unsteady from breathing hard. My arm is pulsing. It's going to bruise. 

The Mayor seems to have landed in his chair, looking around wide-eyed. Disoriented, but… He's checking his exits, I realize. His body is tightly wound up, like he's anticipating something. As I push myself up, I see he's shaking, subtly but it's there. I don't understand.   
What's he got to be afraid of? He attacked me, damn it.   
But. He's scared.   
And I can't leave him like this.   
She wouldn't do something like that. 

“David, calm down.” I try, but his eyes are still unfocused, darting from the door to me. I sigh.   
I'm tired from today. I'm tired of this.   
But this was my choice. So I reach in..   
And send it to him. 

_LOOK AT ME._

He does.   
Blinks.   
And then… “Todd..?”  
It becomes a little easier to breathe. 

“It's me.” a beat of silence, “I've come to give my report.”  
He spends a while longer staring at me like he's seen a ghost, and I wonder if I should send another command. But then he shakes his head, as if to break out of whatever spell he was under, and his body relaxes. A small smile spreads across his face. It's as if everything from a few moments ago was forgotten.   
(I haven't forgotten.)  
(What the hell was that?)

“You took a long time to return. Were the talks that difficult?” back to normal and teasing me. Great.   
“No, they've agreed to ship out more this time. There'll be a car in three weeks.” I don't think about it, it's all business as usual. I can't keep her out of my Noise though. Her smile. Her eyes. He squints.   
“Yes, the soldiers I sent with you said as much. Actually, they all said the same exact thing. Isn't it curious?”

I don't bite. My mind is blank. “Yes, very.”  
He's still staring. The smile is gone. I think about Viola. I think about our hug. How warm and alive she was. How tightly I held her while we wept.   
The Mayor looks away. 

“I'm glad that you…”   
He doesn't finish the thought. He's frowning slightly, fixing the crinkles on his suit. I don't know what to say so I decide to look for something to focus on.   
It doesn't take long.   
There's a bullet hole in the wall. A fresh one.   
No blood though. 

“What happened here?” I ask, but I don't get an answer. He's still frowning and staring at something I can't comprehend. It's the closest to sulking I've seen him do in a long while.   
“David, what happened here?” he almost looks offended at being snapped out of whatever he was thinking about. Probably something evil. The Mayor looks at it briefly, and then at me, bored. 

“One of the guards had some opinions to voice.”  
Well that explains the missing soldier. 

“So you decided to shoot at him?” at this point I don't even pretend to be surprised or horrified.   
“A new guard will be there to replace him in the morning.” he says and annoyance slips into his voice. This is strange, even for him. I find myself worrying, despite everything. 

“You don't usually shoot your staff.”  
No reply. He's definitely sulking. I sigh and walk to him, sitting on his table. I try not to think about being choked against it.   
(I'm not stupid.)   
(I know why he's being like this.)   
(It feels good to see him like this.)   
(Suffering-)   
(Like I've been suffering-)   
Serves him right. 

“That's absolutely right,Todd” and with a cryptic smile, he pulls me down by my collar and kisses me. “But you're still here.”  
And he's right.


	4. nine million rainy days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i've rewritten this chapter so many times and I'm still pissed abt not fitting some ideas in so maybe I'll do another hunting chapter one day but anyway! Rain, does and Noise crisis ft self harm? So trigger warning for that.
> 
> (I haven't read Snowscape so the idea that people from Viola's settlement would integrate into The Land's way of Noise after years of living in close proximity and with lessons learned from the past is me just guessing so, if that's already the case in canon, yay? If not, sorry for bsing to create drama lmfao)
> 
>  
> 
> _Todd gets dragged along on the annual hunt that doesn't go as planned, and David is distracting and codependent as usual._

“I just don't understand why it had to be me.”  
“Yes you've said as much.”  
“I mean, Trevor and Peter were perfectly free and they know these woods way better than I do.”  
“Todd-”  
“And they're better with their rifles and actually know more than the basics and-”

“But I didn't want them here. I wanted you.”  
That shuts me up. I look back to our surroundings. 

The trees around us are tall and oppressively so, peaks lost in the early morning mist, leaves crunching under our boots. It's humid and cold and muddy and that's just the worst combination for when you're trying to get through a forest with only the barest of sunshine lighting your path. I hate hunting trips. 

“Focus, Todd. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.” he says, and even though I can't see his face from here, I know he's smiling. Bastard.  
Last time we went was three years ago and I can still remember slipping on a rock while we were crossing a creek and ending up very wet and very muddy, which none of the men in our hunting party let me live down.  
Now I own a pair of hiking boots that I never wear. Appropriate for a present from him. Every year it's something just useless enough yet still creepily thoughtful that it leaves me wondering if he's making fun of me or is just bad at giving gifts. I don't mention it tho. Something about the way he smiles whenever he hands em to me makes me feel guilty. Come to think of it… 

“Hey-”  
Silence. It comes from him, quicker than I can even form the words. He's crouching and looking through his scope. I take out my binoculars.  
A doe.  
I let out a silent sigh.  
We're not here for does.

But the Mayor doesn't lower his rifle. He's staring intently, and even though his finger isn't on the trigger, he's alert. So I continue watching.  
There doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary there. The doe has lowered its head and is feeding, seems a bit younger than regular but otherwise, it's just a doe. There's nothing visible around it and the light fog is making it hard for me to get a good look. Only bushes, dead leaves and..  
It raises its head.  
And it looks…  
Right at me.

Except it's only for a second and it turns around a few times, searching, ears perked up and taking in… Everything. The slightest of rustling makes the doe twitch. I can't help but wonder if it can hear us. Would it run if it could?  
It lowers its head again. And the Mayor does the same. 

“We're going to track this doe, Todd.”  
“But why? I thought we were going to hunt a buck?”

He doesn't turn back to look at me, just raises his finger to his lips to quiet me and says, “We are.”  
“This doe senses a buck in rut somewhere near. You can read it from its body language. We're going to use it to get our prize.” and the way he says prize makes my hair stand up. It reminds me of the real reason why I avoid these trips every year.  
It transforms him. Or rather, exposes what's always hiding just under the surface. The war that's always clamoring for attention and so meticulously suppressed most of the year, it digs its way out of his skin and possesses him. I can't watch.  
Because it's easier when I look away.  
(it's easier when I pretend I don't know)  
(but I do)  
(I do and it scares me)  
(scares me because I can see my-)  
(shuddup)  
So I look away and pretend I can't see his grin as he thinks about death. 

 

The buck doesn't appear.  
It's been 6 hours and we've been moving sluggishly through the trees, sweat pooling under layers of thick clothes and hunting gear. Even as the day unfolds the lighting remains poor and the autumn chill makes the nature around us seem even more dead than usual, the air fresh yet almost uncomfortably so. The natural undercurrent of Noise seems distant somehow, like we've stepped into a different planet altogether and it's unsettling in a way I can't even describe. The Mayor doesn't seem bothered by it though. He never does. He just keeps observing the doe and murmuring about the position of her tail or what the eff ever.  
‘Her’? 

“Don't get carried away by sympathy Todd.” he says, somehow standing right beside me suddenly and I stumble backwards from sheer surprise, which immediately proves to be the wrong choice because my heel hits something and I'm off balance, world tilting ever so slightly-  
I feel a grip on my arm, familiar and strong, pulling me back.  
Except, you know, the ground is muddy and it's so easy to slip. And I'm way bigger than I once was (he loves that).  
So when I hit the ground, it's not only my voice that I hear cry out. 

“Didn't I tell you…” he tries, but then he goes silent on top of me. His face is a little messy and sweaty and there's stray dirt from the fall just above his eyebrow. That shouldn't be as endearing as it is to me, but I can't help but laugh. It hurts, my back and head are pulsing with pain but I just can't stop, the absurdity of it all making my head swim.  
He cracks up a bit too and I feel him shaking slightly on my chest.  
We're laying in dirt together and it's the most hilarious goddam thing in the world.  
So I kiss him. 

By the time we get up, our clothes are soaked and sticking together, but I don't mind. Even David doesn't seem too annoyed by it. The cold seems all but gone and my Noise is lighter, filled with-  
(it's not me, it's not me, it's him, it's his feelings-) 

He's already picking up his rifle and looking around. It's over as soon as it started. That's how we work. Light a match and watch it burn, quickly but strongly. And then throw the charred remains away. Rinse and repeat. Something about that just doesn't sit well with me.  
Is it really like that? 

“The doe's gone. Come on, we need to track its movement..”  
And just as he says it, a single droplet falls on my nose. Oh fuck.  
“Rain.”  
We scramble to where we last saw her. 

 

It takes an hour and a lot of grumbling to spot her again, this time drinking from a puddle and a lot more relaxed. David said it's because of the rain, makes deer more carefree. It doesn't have the same effect on humans apparently. I never knew the forest could be so noisy, in the true sense of the word, where everything around you seems to be moving, rearranging and screaming at the same time. It's deafening and it doesn't help that I can feel water slipping under my clothes, not sure if it's sweat or just the consequence of squatting in the rain for too long.  
“How much longer?”  
“Don't whine, Todd, it's unbecoming.”  
I did not whine. 

“We should split up. I can cover more ground and hopefully spot the buck.” I don't add the ‘you think is there’, but it's pretty obvious. He snorts, and now who's unbecoming?  
“Do as you like, but don't get lost. I won't be able to come save you.”  
I send several choice rude words directly into his head before I stomp away, ignoring his laughter. 

Five minutes in and I'm already regretting my decision. Moving around in the morning was tough but now it's just unbearable, I can barely see in front of myself and the constant sounds coming from everywhere, all at once and without filter are driving me mad. There's no way I'm going to find anything at this rate. But I can't go back to him, not empty handed.  
Proving him wrong is one of the rare pleasures of life and I ain't about to give in.  
Except it's still dark and noisy and I wouldn't say I'm afraid, because I'm definitely not, but I quicken my pace all the same.  
At one point I realize I'm running.  
Running until I'm out of the trees and on a field.  
Alone.

“Did you hear something?”  
Not alone. One tall woman, looking around, and her companion, whose clothes definitely don't belong to our city.  
From the settlement. 

They're to my left, far away enough that they can't see me as I drop into a crouch. The now heavy rain and clouds work in my advantage, masking my presence, but sadly theirs too. I can't make any details out, but I can see they have rifles strapped to their shoulders and I can already guess what they're doing here. After all, this isn't an exclusive hunting ground. We can't afford exclusivity anymore.  
What's most jarring is the man's Noise, completely unrestrained but somehow clear, more than what I'm used to. It feels like it's everywhere, speaking to me and connecting even though there nothing to connect with. It's almost like..  
The Spackle.  
And as soon as the thought forms, he responds to his partner.  
Not with his mouth.  
He doesn't need to.  
My heart thrums wildly in my chest.  
(can he?)  
(can he hear me?)  
(are all men in her settlement like this?)  
(what have you been doing?)

But they don't come closer and the Noise that's coming is gentle and light, like it's completely sure of its place in this universe, like it's-  
Free.  
I run back into the forest before I can even look back.  
Jealousy, anger, sadness, so many emotions suddenly burst forth and I have to get away, I have to escape as fast as possible because I'm going to overflow, I'm going to open gates I've worked so hard to lock, pushed so many problems into, I can't, I can't do it-  
But it's too late.  
It leaks from everywhere, slips down my body as it betrays me, and a thousand pleas and Violas spill into my hands as I tremble. Images of empty back seats and of New Prentisstown getting smaller, blurrier, Viola waiting for me, Viola forgiving me, Viola accepting me, loving me, Viola, Viola-

“I told you not to get lost, Todd.”  
If words could kill, they'd sounds something like this.  
I turn to look at (my captor?)  
His face flashes with hurt and I realize that was loud and clear, my Noise still unruly and crying for Viola even as I look at him and I can't, don't want to stop, I've missed this, as painful as it is. But in all that, looking at him now, different emotions push against everything and my head is a mess, love and regret and hate (for who? For who?) just coming out, coming out as I watch him.  
But he's a wall of silence.  
And his expression is now the usual apathy, mixed with pity.  
He's disappointed in me.  
Why does that sting?

“Clean yourself up and follow me. We've wasted too much time today.”  
There's nothing more to discuss so I do what he says and follow. My Noise doesn't shut up. 

 

“If you want, I can help you.”  
“No. I can do it myself.”  
My Noise doesn't sound very convincing. 

He turns to me, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, and tries to come near. He's going to quiet me, he's going to dig himself deep inside my brain, he's going to kill me without stopping my heart-

“Can't you please…” and he sighs, not looking at me. Steps away.  
“I'm trying, I'm effin trying so why don't you just, I don't know, leave for a few minutes with your judgemental silence and let me sort this out!”  
I didn't mean to shout and I hope it shows in my Noise. We've been walking for an hour and I'm still struggling with quieting myself and more and more negativity and longing is pouring out freely and it's not even muted by the rain. So I explode.  
He says nothing, nods and walks away.  
I can't even bring myself to feel bad about it. 

I look at the sky, and nothing looks back. I feel inexplicably alone.  
_I am the circle and the circle is me_.  
Viola, what are you doing out there?  
_I am the circle and the circle is me…_.  
What am I doing here?  
_I am the circle…_  
Should I stay? 

No answer.  
Foolish.  
I head out to find him, silent. 

 

It turns out to be very easy, but for all the wrong reasons. He's leaning against a tree, slightly sagged, with one hand on his right arm. It's too dark to make out much but even as I'm walking towards him I can see a dark stain under his palm. 

“What happened?”  
“An accident, it's nothing serious.”  
It doesn't seem like nothing serious. I rush to his side. 

“Show me.”  
He looks at me, almost in disbelief, and slowly removes his hand. Blood rushes out. It's deep. This doesn't look like an accident. I take out some bandages from my pouch and get to work. It's not good, but it'll hold until we get back. The red spreads too quickly and I keep having to reapply them. He's just staring at my face with a weird expression. I don't look back.  
My head is swirling with worry though.  
Worry about him, pushing all else aside, red stains blurring my vision.  
That's the catch. 

I mean, when you spend six years protecting and looking after someone, that changes you. You can't devote years of your life to someone and pretend it was all a mistake. You don't slip into service and stick there, watching them work, eating with them, sleeping in the same house, learning with them, you don't offer your body and soul over just for some flimsy vague martyrdom.  
You stay because it's easy. Because it feels good. Because you want to.  
(shuddup, shuddup, shuddup-) 

“Todd, the hunt-”  
I stay because of him.  
“Don't do that again.”  
And I press into his wound with my finger. He breathes in sharply. We're chest to chest and he's looking up at me slightly, pressed into the tree. 

“I'm here, David, so don't do that again.”  
His eyes are darting from my eyes to my lips to my hand and I can practically feel the uncertainty in them, the questions he's afraid to ask. Questions I don't have an answer to right now. But I'm willing to try. And I know he knows that because he's reading me, reading my Noise and for the first time it's focused entirely on him.  
I know, because I hear him.  
Faint and murky, but radiating so much happiness that I can't help but feel embarrassed. Kissing him with a smile is… different. But it's good in the way I never thought it could be. 

He kisses like six years were an eternity, and maybe they were. Maybe this match can last a little longer too.


	5. happy birthday, new prentisstown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is. extremely self indulgent. fluffy and probably rly ooc but. i needed to heal my soul with some soft™ todd/david
> 
> _Todd hatches a plan and David panics, just a little._

My preparations were nearing the end as the date approached.   
My birthday.   
And the day after, the settlers. With their car and one Todd-shaped hole. The car that's supposed to take me (back? away?)   
She made it come a day later on purpose, I'm sure.   
Telling me to grow up. To become a man once again. 

I stuff the things inside.   
I've been lugging this bag and its contents for days now, gathering all the necessary tools and visiting various shops around town to make sure it's perfect. Maybe manipulating some men to look the other way, because if they knew, eventually he'd know too. Not to mention I've been dodging his soldiers all week, the ones I usually pretended weren't just around the corner. Monitoring. Reporting on me, my habits, my routine. 

It had annoyed me, once. The first time I caught a man tailing me, I immediately ran to confront David. He denied it, saying it's just a mere coincidence. When I tried to approach the man, he acted as if he was seeing me for the first time in his life. He probably was, from his perspective. Every next case was the same. I'd catch them. They'd have their memories tampered with.   
Until I decided to start playing by his rules.   
Until I started morphing their Noise to escape. 

It's been almost like a game since. But I don't have time to play now. I have a goal. 

I've been avoiding my duties regarding him lately, I still visited, daily, but I couldn't afford to keep watch for hours as I usually did. It was dangerous. He is still dangerous because he knows too much. And what he doesn't, he gets out of you, one way or the other.   
I couldn't risk him reading my Noise. It would ruin everything.   
So I ignored him. 

Right now, I was feeling all those missed hours. I hadn't even realized how much of my day is consumed by thinking about or looking over him. How right it felt to talk to him every day and how lonely I was otherwise.   
I spent more time among other men, who mostly regarded me with distaste or animosity. Some found my lack of Noise interesting. In the past, I've had many ask me to teach them. I refused everyone. I gave everyone the same excuse. _“It's too hard and worthless. I'm forbidden to say how. I was born with it..”_ But honestly… it felt… Intimate. I was selfish and greedy. The silence was something that was only mine.   
(mine and his) 

Entering a sort of variety store, I immediately spot the shop owner, who grins when he sees me. 

“Well if it isn't my favorite little soldier, no doubt here in place of his daddy, asking for more dubious supplies!” Raymond says, and I cringe at the daddy part. He snickers at that.   
“You know it's not like that.”  
“Yes, yes, you've been flying solo for a while now, haven't you? Been getting a little too many customers complaining about feeling hazy in the head lately.” and now I'm really frowning, but he raises his hands in surrender. 

Raymond is one of the rare people in this settlement that had reached out to me with genuine interest and no ulterior motives, almost six years ago. I can still remember stepping into his shop with David, looking at my feet while he dragged me around and showed me all the things I'd need to buy for him in the future, loudly making me read all the labels with his help while I burned with shame. Raymond just lounged behind the counter, with a smile that stretched the grotesquely big scar he had across his face, the one I'll soon learn was from our war with the Spackle (from one our own soldiers).   
He wasn't from Prentisstown, old or new, picked up while they marched here, his old life of no importance, or so he always told me. I never asked. Sometimes, when I came to his store after a particularly bad day, he'd give me free candy and sit me down to chat, and I'd get a glimpse of a boy, smaller than me, eating the same and smiling. We never talked about that and I didn't mind. We all had something we lost.   
Which is why he's one of the only people I've told about my Noise.   
About what it hides. And what it can do.   
I needed someone to talk to, and I suspect he did too. 

“So what does a high class man such as yourself need from my shabby ol’ shop today?”  
“A wooden box.” I say, and then look him in the eye. “A good one. It's important.”  
He stares at me a little longer than necessary, assessing, and then nods, shuffling away to the back of the store. When he comes back, he's carrying a black box, bigger than I expected, and I wonder how I'm going to conceal such a thing.   
He dumps it in front of me and nods again, empathetically. 

“How much?”  
“It's important, yeah?” he grins. My heart swells a bit and he ruffles my hair. He's treating me like a kid again, and I find that I don't mind. When I'm with him, everything that makes Todd the man gets pushed in the background, and I'm reminded of gentler times, when Todd the kid could curse at his dog and take care of sheep.   
(sometimes-)   
(sometimes I even let myself think about Ben and Cillian) 

I take it and I bid him goodbye. 

 

Three days later, I'm standing in front of the office door, which is suspiciously closed, and four eyes are on me. The old guard, a short young man, is staring at me with his usual deadpan expression, Noise as bleak as the perpetual eye bags he has. His taller companion, there to replace the unfortunately discharged soldier from three weeks ago, is looking at me with an amused and lax expression, which uncomfortably reminds me of David. He has a hand on his hips and his face screams confidence. His Noise isn't very different.   
They are both between me and my goal.

“Hey, kid, you can't enter right now. Boss has people in there.”  
‘Kid’? I glare at him and grip my bag tighter. He just continues smiling at me.   
“I need to see the Mayor, it's important.”

Now the old guard pipes up, his voice as dry as his appearance, “He said we shouldn't interrupt no matter what. You'll have to wait.”  
I'm really not in the mood to wait. The taller guard sees that and he leans forward, with a conspiratory look. “He's meeting with some women.” he whispers, “I bet he's finally going to hand the city over to those bitches at the colony.”

Before I can stop myself I'm hitting him with my Noise, another thing I perfected over the years, with his help. And he falls over, surprise and pain mixing in with my words in his Noise. The guard besides him flinches, but doesn't do anything. He's used to this. Smart man. 

I open the door.   
“-call us again, we won't come.”  
Silence.   
Two women in white coats. Clean. _Not from here._

“Todd, would you mind waiting outside? I'm about to finish here.”  
“No, whatever you're doing here, I have the right to know.”  
“Outside, Todd, please.”   
The please has an edge to it and I know he won't ask again. 

“Ugh, men. Cathy, let's go.” the older woman says and turns to the Mayor, “we're done here. Don't call again.”  
Cathy, who looks slightly terrified and confused rushes out after her superior, not even sparing me a glance. I watch them leave and I'm briefly reminded of Viola.   
David sighs behind me. 

“What an unpleasant woman.”  
“Who were they? What were they doing here?”  
He doesn't look at me as he fumbles with his sleeve. 

“You know what day it is today, Todd?” he asks, and stands up from his chair, walking to the cabinet on my left. He's not answering my question. I've long since learned not to waste my breath when he gets like this. He'll spill eventually. So I just stay silent and watch him rummaging through his things. I can see back muscles working under his suit, lean from exercising with his soldiers often.   
(in lighter clothes)   
(which hide less.)  
I look away and hope my Noise is still covered. 

“Ah, there we go.” he sing-songs, and when he turns I spot a small gift, wrapped in golden paper, something we definitely didn't have in our city. Anxiety and excitement grow in my stomach and my head is already full of guesses.   
He walks up to me, but he doesn't just stop in front of, he comes so near I can smell him, the same infuriatingly sterile smell, and looks over my shoulder. I hear his snort.   
“Will I have to find another guard? So impatient.” and then lower, whispered, “Good boy.”  
My mind goes blank. 

He pulls away and takes my hands, placing the shiny gift into them. It's heavier than it looks and I accept it hesitantly. He nods and signals for me to open it. I realize my hands are shaking. It almost seems like a shame to rip the wrapping, ornate and elegant, nothing that should be in a farmer’s hands. Except I'm not a farmer anymore. Haven't been for a long time now. And when I finally open it, the gift reminds me of just that. 

“A pistol?” I can't keep the confusion out of my voice. What the eff would I need yet another gun for? And an old one to boot. The paint is peeled off partially, some parts showing rust and cracks here and there. But it was cared for, maintained for years, enough that it could look good as new with a little touching up. Except..   
The notches. Small, almost blending in with the design, but present. Dozens of them, some straight and controlled, others put down almost like an afterthought.   
They feel perverse under my fingertips. 

“This is the gun my father passed down onto me, before we even came to this planet. For good luck, he had said.” he quiets, and a twisted smile appears on his lips, I don't say anything, too shocked by the fact he's talking about the past with me.   
“Every nick on it is proof of my life and purpose. It was with me before I..”  
 _‘Before I became this’_ hangs in the air. I try to imagine it. This man, tall and sure, ruthless and bloodthirsty, in a different time, in a different skin. A spotless soul. I can't do it. His smile turns sad. 

“And now, I want you to have it.”  
I don't respond, staring blankly at the metal in my hands, probably dripping with blood of so many innocents. David starts fidgeting again. 

“You've become… Distant, lately. I wanted to give you something to remind you of where you belong.” and his voice darkens with that. My blood runs cold. I can see where this is going. “A token of my trust. For good luck… And protection.” 

And I realize. He's threatening me. He knows about Viola and her offer. He's challenging me. But at the same time… He's handing his life to me. The pistol is a single bullet model and its mark is clear. He's painting a target on his heart while handing it to me on a platter. To him, extreme violence and extreme love are not exclusive, but natural companions.   
I know it should disgust me. I know it should. But it only makes me sad.   
I put a hand on his cheek and feel him flinch under me. 

“David, look at me.”  
He does. It feels hard to breathe suddenly.   
I carefully place his gift into my bag and pull out… My own. The black box. 

“I realized I've never asked you for your birthday, so I figured…” it's surprising difficult to look him in the eyes as I say this, my cheeks betraying me. His expression… I don't know what to make of it. It makes me hesitate. It was so stupid, so effin stupid, of course he wouldn't care about such things-

“For,” his voice quiet and trembling, “me?”  
“Happy birthday, David.”

What happens next, I'm not sure I can or want to describe but from how some people in town spoke of it the next day, it was close to a flash of overwhelming love, burying itself right into your core and leaving you feeling like you've experienced a lifetime of it. A kind of madness that made half of New Prentisstown weep.   
It almost knocked me out.   
It felt … Like a Noise bullet.   
Except.   
Except…   
Gentle.   
It stops my heart. And then his single tear brings me back. 

“David?” I ask, trying to keep the panicked note out of my voice. Crying? Stone doesn't weep.   
But he's not made of stone. He's proven as much.   
The man here shatters unlike any stone I've seen.   
And I realize I'm fine with picking up the pieces.  
The pieces that radiate so much unconditional love. 

He gathers himself, right in front of me, painfully pulling at the seams of his identity, until he's in control again. But now I see all of the cracks he has left for me to worm my fingers into. He lets me take him apart, only me. The realization makes my ache. 

“Open it.” I say gently, and he takes it with a little hesitation, looking at me for approval, looking at me like I could disappear any moment now. Dammit. That's exactly how it looked, these past few days. He thought… He thought I'd leave him. That I was preparing to abandon him.   
That I was going to leave for Viola. 

He opens the box.   
“Paint?”  
“And a sketchbook.”  
He looks at it like he's never seen those things in his life. Or maybe he's just in shock. 

“I thought.. “ I start, but I'm suddenly feeling very self conscious, “I saw you doodling on your paperwork and I thought you might like…” he's still looking at me like I'm something incomprehensible, “and I've seen you look at those in Mr Ross’ shops so.”   
I've never felt more awkward and embarrassed in my entire life. I never thought gift giving could be so nerve-wracking. Did I make a mistake?   
Does he hate it? Who gives a war general a painting set even? I should've asked Raymond, he'd know-

The world spins. And I realize I'm pinned to the desk. Panic rises, I can't help but think how stupid this whole plan was, how stupid I was to do this, to presume-   
He's kissing me. I can't move from under him and he's pressed up against me, as if he can't stand even an inch of us not touching, gripping my head with his hands forcefully. I forget to breathe. My arms hang limply on the sides, and out the corner of my eye I can see the box sitting next to my head, seemingly forgotten.   
He breaks away for a second to look at me.   
His eyes look watery but it could be just my imagination. I know mine are. 

“Todd, you're…” he doesn't finish the sentence because he's back to kissing, moving lower until I feel him biting and licking my neck, and tears fall with that, too many sensations and feelings from all sides.   
“Stop, stop we're in the office you-” my voice cracks and so does my Noise, because he squeezes my arms harshly, fingers digging into my skin, and my hands grip onto his suit. The pressure coming from everywhere makes it hard to focus, but I can tell he's marking me. 

“For such a smart man…” I try to breathe out while he's sucking on my collarbone, “you sure can be stupid sometimes.” I get nothing but a noncommittal _'mm'_ as he works my buttons. We really can't do this here. I sneak my hand up his hair and grab lightly, and he pulls back. He looks like a dog being denied his treat. 

“I have things to do for tomorrow, David.”  
“I'll assign someone else-”  
“David.”  
He sighs into my neck and the sensitivity makes me shiver. I'm going to have to start wearing scarfs. 

“Fine, fine, go.”  
“Don't pout, it doesn't fit you. And David,” I turn back to look at him as I'm leaving, looking at the man I chose to stay with, “I want to see your art.”  
He smirks at me, “I won't disappoint.”


End file.
